


Still

by liamthebastard



Series: let's write Sherlock [1]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Hurt/Comfort, Let's Write Sherlock Challenge, M/M, Post Reichenbach
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-01
Updated: 2013-07-01
Packaged: 2017-12-16 18:25:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 616
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/865174
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/liamthebastard/pseuds/liamthebastard
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sherlock had nearly lost John, and that was unacceptable.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Still

**Author's Note:**

> My entry for the Let's Write Sherlock Challenge (shut up I'm late and yeah I know, Ihaven't finished my 30 Day OTP either). I filled the prompt: After a nearly disastrous case, Sherlock and John share a tense taxi ride back to Baker Street. With emotions running high, they finally arrive back at 221B, and then…
> 
> Enjoy!

John stood awkwardly in the doorway to the flat's sitting room, uncertain if he was welcome. The cab ride home had been desperately uncomfortable, with Sherlock so furious he was physically quaking with a barely suppressed need to strike out.

The case had been... Rougher than either of them anticipated. They had thought it a run of the mill serial killer, nothing the recently risen from the dead Sherlock couldn't handle with his doctor by his side. But John hadn't been by Sherlock's side for a large portion of the case. At first it was intentional, John had work and, honestly, was still quite skittish around his flatmate. That day, however, it had been decidedly unintentional. John had been snatched in plain sight off the street during his lunch break in some desperate attempt to get Sherlock to back off. Naturally, it only increased Sherlock's dedication, and John had been found late that evening, with a knife poised over his jugular.

Sherlock had been the first through the door, with Lestrade hot on his heels. Greg had immediately fired his weapon, before the killer could add John to his list of victims, but John had still been nicked by the blade. Sherlock had refused to speak to anyone at the scene; he just took John by the wrist and led him to a waiting cab.

Which brought them home. To the room John had sat in so often while he was mourning the death of the best friend he'd ever had. And now Sherlock stood in the middle of the room, owning the space with his anger and height, as he stared John down.

Suddenly, Sherlock flitted forward and wrapped John in a surprisingly tight hug, pressing the soldier's face into his shoulder. “I almost lost you," Sherlock hissed, as if it were a fate worse than death. Which, if past incidents were taken into account, it might very well be. John dissolved into his friend, relief at being alive and largely unharmed mixing with a fierce desire to chase the fear and horror out of Sherlock's voice.

“I'm alright," John said lowly, to assure both Sherlock and himself. Sherlock only held him tighter and buried his face in John's hair. John pressed closer, needing to feel, without a doubt, that they were both alive and whole. They'd been dancing this line since Sherlock's return, the difference between platonic contact and... More. John had always been the one to pull back, afraid of where it might lead, but now he put his fear aside, finally understanding that wherever it led would be exactly where he wanted to be. John did pull back, but not far, just enough that he could lift a hand to Sherlock's face and trace nonsense patterns lightly over the skin. Sherlock's eyes drifted shut in relaxation at this movement, and John took the opportunity for what it was, and gently kissed those slightly parted lips.

Sherlock froze, completely unresponsive as John drew back again. “Sorry," John said, though he was anything but. “Delete that, if you like." He moved to leave Sherlock's arms, but they suddenly held tightly once more, and Sherlock's face came alive.

“And if I don't want to?" Sherlock growled. John grinned softly, triumphant.

“Then I'll just have to do it again," he said, leaning up once more. This time Sherlock met him halfway, turning the kiss fierce. John came up for air a moment later, and both he and Sherlock came to the same conclusion. John opened his mouth to speak, but Sherlock cut him off. “Yes, rest first, I know. My room?"

John hesitated, but when Sherlock looked so hopeful and vulnerable, how could he say no?


End file.
